ALIAS
by Tiara Moss
Summary: A cross between Alias and MASH. Mostly MASH. Chapter 13 added. Please read and review! Thanks!
1. The Clock Struck One

A*L*I*A*S  
  
By Tiara Moss  
  
A Word For The Reader: This story was born out of sheer exhaustion and I hope that you like it. It takes the characters of the show Alias and mingles them with the characters of the show M*A*S*H.  
  
1  
  
Plot  
  
An odd twist of fate causes Sydney, Vaughn, and Jack to travel back in time to the 4077th M*A*S*H.  
  
  
  
And Now A Word For The People Who Hold The Copyrights To These Shows And Characters: I make no claims whatsoever that these characters and shows are mine. I know they are not. The plot is from my own head but most of the rest is copyrighted to someone else and that person is not me or even anyone that I know. Please don't sue. I'm 16 and have no job yet, so you wouldn't get much out of me.  
  
And now, on with the story…  
  
  
  
1.1 Chapter One  
  
2 Los Angeles, 2002  
  
Sydney Bristow walked into Credit Dauphine that Saturday morning feeling nothing out of the ordinary. It was raining heavily but other then that, nothing seemed as it shouldn't. She went about her usual morning routine, had a meeting with Sloane and went to visit her father to get the latest information on Emily's fate. She and Dixon met with Marshall about the tech they would need for their next mission, which would take them to Korea in two hours time. Then she went straight home and packed her bags. Little did she know that in a few hours this ordinary day would become quite extraordinary indeed.  
  
  
  
3 Korea, 1952  
  
Hawkeye Pierce rubbed his eyes wearily as he walked out of the O.R. and straight into Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger. He had been running into the hospital at light speed.  
  
"At ease, Corporal." Hawkeye told him yawning. He walked over to where he was keeping his clothes and started to change out of his scrubs.  
  
"No time. I gotta show this to Potter!" For the first time, Captain Pierce realized that his dress-wearing comrade was carrying a box.  
  
"What's in the box, Klinger?" He asked, still tired, but with piqued interest.  
  
"Can't tell you. It's a surprise." He started to hurry off again.  
  
"Klinger!"  
  
Klinger stopped at the door.  
  
"Klinger, this is war. The only surprises here are the ones that we find when we cut open some kid soldier's body and we see that he's got bullets from his neck to his toes. Or the ones that come in the shape of friendly Korean gunfire." He laced up his boots and stood up. "There are no surprises here that I'd like to get, so show me what's in that damn box or I'll give you a surprise in the form of my fist!"  
  
Klinger knew not to mess with Captain Pierce when he was running on about three hours of sleep so he finally gave in, setting the box on a bench in front of the laundry bin. He opened the flaps and the pair peered in. Inside was a strange looking apparatus that Hawkeye assumed was a clock.  
  
Klinger pulled the object out of the box. "This was sent to me by my mother. It's an old clock that has been passed down from generation to generation. It's been sought after by many a government in its time. It's supposedly some sort of important ancient artifact, but my family doesn't believe that sort of thing. Unfortunately, Uncle Sam does and he's sent the CIA to find it for him. Mother sent it to me to keep it safe from greedy hands."  
  
"Klinger, is this another one of your pathetic attempts to get a section 8?" Hawkeye took the clock in his hands and turned it over. "Because if it is, I don't think it's going to work."  
  
"No, seriously."  
  
Hawkeye waved his hand. "It doesn't matter." He started to leave. "Show your ancient artifact to Potter, just as long as you let me sleep." And he was gone.  
  
He walked to The Swamp and lay down in bed, hoping that no one else would get shot for at least another 24 hours.  
  
  
  
4 Korea, 2002  
  
Sydney and Dixon ran down the hallway of Korea International, the largest bank in South Korea, shooting behind them as they went. Five men fell dead: one was American, one Russian, one Korean, and two were British. Sydney held a clock in her hands, another clock believed to be a Rambaldi artifact, one that might lead Sydney to her mother. She carefully put it in her backpack along with the black curly wig she was wearing and the two of them ran out the back door into a waiting van.  
  
  
  
5 Korea, 1952  
  
"Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger, sir." He stomped his foot and saluted to Colonel Sherman T. Potter. It was a funny gesture for someone in a red and white evening gown and it took all Potter could do to keep from laughing. "Permission to show you something important, Colonel?"  
  
This ought to be good, Potter thought. "Permission granted."  
  
Again he pulled out the family heirloom that his mother had sent him for safekeeping. He passed it over to the Colonel and then ran around to a spot behind Potter's shoulder. "I need to ask you to put this in your footlocker, Colonel."  
  
"What in tar nation is this?"  
  
And Klinger began to explain.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
5.1  
  
5.2  
  
5.3  
  
5.4  
  
5.5  
  
5.6 


	2. An Explanation or Two

1.1 Chapter Two  
  
2 Los Angeles, 2002  
  
"This clock is said to be one of only two in the world. One is rumored to be in the possession of Alexander Khasinau. The other," Sydney held up the clock she and Dixon had retrieved from the bank in Korea, "is this one." She handed it to Vaughn so that he could look it over. "It belonged to a civilian family by the name of Klinger until the Korean War. It passed from their possession to the hands of a North Korean soldier after the desertion of the M*A*S*H unit that a man named Maxwell Klinger served in."  
  
Michael looked confused. It was 10:30 at night and they were meeting at the docks to discuss Sydney's mission in Korea. It was raining again so they were inside one of the warehouses. He was looking the artifact over. "M*A*S*H unit?" He asked, unsure of what the word meant.  
  
"Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. A unit of doctors and nurses who were stationed in Korea to fix up those that were wounded in battle."  
  
She pulled a folder out from her bag and handed him an old photo. It was of several men and a woman standing around a signpost that had arrows with the names of several cities written on them. The arrows were pointing to the direction you had to travel to get to a certain city and also how many miles it was to that city. She pointed to one sitting in the foreground on top of a footlocker.  
  
"This is Sergeant Klinger. We know that the clock was kept in a footlocker, but it's only speculation that this was the one used."  
  
"And the others? Who are they?" Vaughn indicated the others in the photo.  
  
Sydney pointed to each in turn. "Major Charles Emerson Winchester III: Surgeon at the 4077th. Captain John Francis Patrick Mulcahy: Chaplain at the 4077th. Captain BJ Hunnicut: Another Surgeon. Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce (better known as Hawkeye): Head surgeon. Major Margaret Houlihan: Head nurse. And Colonel Sherman T. Potter, whose name really explains everything."  
  
She took a deep breath and searched through the folder once more. Vaughn continued to look at the photo. "Did Sergeant Klinger know the importance of the clock?"  
  
"The whole family knew that it was a sought after artifact. But they thought of it as a family heirloom. They didn't believe that it was actually important." She pulled out a sheet of paper. "They did, however, know that the US government was after it. This is a letter from Klinger's mother. It explains that the CIA was after the clock and that she was sending it to him for safekeeping."  
  
"How did it get into their possession in the first place?"  
  
"Well, that's an interesting story…"  
  
  
  
3 Korea, 1952  
  
Colonel Potter was looking the clock over very carefully. "What time is it, son?"  
  
"O eighteen-hundred, Colonel Potter, sir." Klinger replied.  
  
"By this contraption it's noon." He showed it to the Corporal.  
  
"Oh, the time doesn't work on it, sir. It never has." He took the clock back from his CO. "You see, this isn't a time telling clock."  
  
"It isn't?" Colonel Potter was skeptic.  
  
"No. It's just for show. My great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather bought it at a market in Lebanon during the 1500's. The man that sold it to him said that it hadn't told the time in 30 years. His father had found it in the house of a man put to death for heresy. The day he stole the clock it worked fine. The next day, it stopped. No one knows why. Anyway, my great-great-great-"  
  
"Klinger!" Colonel Potter interrupted.  
  
"Yes sir. He bought it and took it home and ever since my family has been passing it down from one generation to the other." He got down on his knees and clasped his hands together. "Please let me keep it in your footlocker. It's very important."  
  
"Get up."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
  
  
4 Los Angeles, 2002  
  
"So it was stolen the day before Rambaldi was put to death?" Vaughn asked.  
  
"Yeah. Legend has it that it stopped working the next day…at the exact moment of his death."  
  
"Noon."  
  
"Right." Sydney set the clock down on a chair.  
  
"So how does it work? Or, rather, how was it supposed to work?"  
  
"One of the pages in his notebook says that Rambaldi used this clock and the other clock that Khasinau has to experiment with time travel. The clocks had to be set to a certain time. One day Rambaldi would set one clock to 5:00 and then a week later he would set the other clock to 5:00 and he would, according to his records, be sent back to the day he had set the other clock." She could see the look of disbelief on Vaughn's face. "I know, pretty unbelievable." She cast a glance at it. "Sloane, however, seems to believe it. He thinks it will lead us to Khasinau."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I don't know. Set it to the same time his clock is set and then we're sent to where he is. Something like that."  
  
"Why do you have it? I mean, if Sloane thinks that it's so important, why did he give it to you?" Vaughn noticed that Sydney's gaze dropped to the floor. "He doesn't know you have it, does he?"  
  
"Well, not exactly. He knows I have it. He's trusting me to take it to a lab tomorrow, to see if it works. What he doesn't know is that I'm showing it to you." She paused and stared Michael straight in the face. "And that I'm planning on trying it out first."  
  
  
  
5 Korea, 1952  
  
"Corporal, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but you gotta promise me that you're not going to get us into any trouble. I mean, I'm a very patriotic man and you're asking me to keep something from my government. Now, I wouldn't usually do something like this, you know. But I can see that it means a whole lot to your family and if there's one thing I hold in higher esteem than the USA it's my family." He picked it up and twirled the hour hand around with his finger. "Besides, it's only a clock." He spun the minute hand as well. "What harm could it do?"  
  
The clock read 10:19.  
  
"I'll put it here for right now. No harm can come to it and I'm hankering for some dinner." 


	3. Plan of Attack

Chapter Three  
  
1 Los Angeles, 2002  
  
"You're planning on what?" Michael asked incredulously. "Sydney, that's dangerous, and you know it."  
  
"I know that. I'm not stupid."  
  
"You're talking about a) messing with time travel, b) messing with Khasinau and c) messing with Sloane. I'm not sure which one is the more dangerous!" He looked at Sydney imploringly. "Don't do this Sydney. You don't know what it's going to do."  
  
"I have to do this. It could be my only chance to get to my-" She stopped, realizing her mistake.  
  
"Your only chance to get to your what? Your mother, perhaps? Syd, as a friend and as your handler, I forbid you to do this."  
  
"You forbid me?" She couldn't believe they were having this conversation.  
  
"You're playing with fire!"  
  
"I don't care. Michael, because of my mother I was arrested as an enemy of the state."  
  
"You've been cleared of the charges brought against you by the DSR."  
  
"But she hasn't! If we destroy her, this thing will be all over with."  
  
"Destroy her? She's your mother!"  
  
"She was using us!" Tears began to well up in Sydney's eyes. "She used my father and I to get what she wanted. She killed your father!"  
  
"I'm not the revenge type." He walked to the other side of the room and laid his head against the wall.  
  
For a moment it was silent except for the pitter-patter of rain on the roof. Sydney looked at the clock and then picked it up. She slowly made her way over to Vaughn, who looked as if he would've cried had she not been there.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
He started to say something about families but she cut him off.  
  
"What's really wrong?" She put a hand on his arm.  
  
He didn't speak for another few minutes. Then: "I've seen you take risks lately that I would rather you hadn't taken. You've put yourself in danger and I've been worried about you. You may not know it, but you're one of the few people that I actually still believe in anymore."  
  
He stood up straight again and looked down into her eyes. They were both swallowed up by the moment and suddenly their lips met, if only briefly, because at that moment someone burst through the door. They pulled apart quickly.  
  
"Sydney!" It was her father. "Sydney, don't do this!"  
  
"You called your father in on this, too?" Vaughn asked, coming out of the shadow he'd been hiding in.  
  
"I want him to be there when we bring her down." She explained.  
  
"Syd," Jack pleaded, "listen to me. I know what you're thinking and believe me; you don't want to do it. You'll only cause more trouble."  
  
"What are you talking about?" She was still holding the clock.  
  
"You could get yourself killed! Who knows who you'll encounter when you get there?"  
  
"I don't care! I saw those videos. My mother is a horrible person! And after Sloane is delivered Khasinau, he won't care who's there as long as he's the one who gets to take the shot that kills him!"  
  
Vaughn stepped in. "Remember the other day when you told me that you were becoming what you despised?"  
  
"I had killed a man! I had killed a man that I happened to love very much! I was liable to say anything!"  
  
She put her finger on the hour hand, closed her eyes, and pushed it.  
  
"Sydney, no!" The two shouted at the same time.  
  
Before they could stop her she had done the same with the minute hand.  
  
Suddenly there was a bright flash of light. The three were slammed against the wall, but oddly enough, there was no wall. Then there was darkness and a deafening silence. Then nothing. Sydney had been knocked out cold.  
  
The clock read 10:19. 


	4. When Worlds Collide

1.1 Chapter Four  
  
2 Korea, 1952  
  
"Captain, wake up!" Somebody was shaking Hawkeye Pierce out of a semi- decent night's sleep and he didn't care who it was, he was going to kill him anyway. He'd been having a dream about a beautiful Mexican girl named Marguerite.  
  
"Sir? Captain Pierce? Wake up!" At that moment he knew exactly who it was. No one else on the planet called him sir.  
  
"Go away, Radar. Can't you see I'm trying to catch some Z's? The helicopters keep chasing them away. I can't say it's my favorite sport, but- "  
  
"There are three people here and we don't know where they came from." Radar was pulling at him and if Hawkeye had had no will power at that moment the company clerk would have been rendered armless. "Colonel Potter and Corporal Klinger went to the Mess for dinner and when they came back to retrieve something they found two men and a woman lying on the floor, unconscious."  
  
"What?" Mexican girl or no, Hawkeye was interested now. He sat up straight.  
  
"They were taken to Post-Op for examining, sir. Captain Hunnicut is seeing them now, sir." Radar snapped to attention as Hawkeye stood up.  
  
"Then what do they need me for? BJ's a big boy. He can go to the bathroom all by himself now. Hey, we even got him a big boy bed." He sat down again.  
  
"No!"  
  
"What do you mean, no? It's oak wood and we painted it red because that's his favorite color."  
  
"Sir, begging your pardon, you really need to see this." He looked rather frightened.  
  
"Why? Do they have the word Commie tattooed on their forehead? Are there horns coming out of their heads? What?" Hawkeye was usually a very happy-go-lucky guy, but not when there was a young woman as well as a full night of sleep waiting for him on the other side of his pillow. But he could tell that Radar was not going to give up. "All right, all right. But the next time I'm counting sheep, I'll be sure to catch one, slaughter it and make a nice dinner out of it."  
  
A large gasp came from the animal-loving Radar, but Hawkeye patted him on the head.  
  
"I'm getting up, aren't I?"  
  
******************  
  
Radar had been right about one thing. He really did need to see this. The three people lying on cots in Post-Op weren't like anything he'd seen before. Well, they were people of course, but the woman and the younger of the two men were wearing strange clothes. But they were American and they had the ID to prove it. However, their birth dates told Captain Pierce that something was fishy. Two of them were supposedly born after the war and one of them would only be two years old right now! Hawkeye resolved that they were all mad as a Hatter and would have to be put away. Working for the 4077th had finally worn them down. He guessed that it was inevitable. Seeing nothing but blood and guts for three years can inevitably take its toll.  
  
As he looked over the three unconscious bodies he couldn't help thinking that the woman was incredibly beautiful. She was a brunette and relatively tall with, he guessed, brown eyes. He couldn't tell behind her closed eyelids.  
  
The man in the cot next to her was determined, if the identification they had was correct, to be her father. He was a rather handsome man, but he had a stern decorum about him that told him to be wary of him.  
  
The third man must have been the woman's lover or husband or something. They didn't share the same last name, but there was no other explanation as to why he was with them.  
  
But really, there was no explanation as to why any of them were here and why they would lie about their birthdays. No one would believe that they were born in 1974 and the young woman certainly didn't look like she'd been born in 1874, that was for sure.  
  
"Pierce?" A female voice came from behind. He turned. It was Margaret.  
  
"Hey. Want to come join the party?" Hawkeye indicated the chair on the other side of the bed. "We're playing charades. I think that their word was possum because they've been playing dead for hours."  
  
Margaret chuckled a little. "You know, Pierce, you take these things in stride. While others stand around worrying, afraid to go and face what troubles them, you go to the source of the problem and see it for yourself." She put a hand on his shoulder. "They'll wake up soon, you'll see. And then, we can find out the truth and get on with our lives."  
  
Hawkeye shook his head. "I'm not so sure about that. I mean, what if they aren't who they say they are. That's highly likely considering the fact that if they are the older man over there should be wearing a diaper and I'm not going to check."  
  
"Maybe they're hiding something. Or maybe, and this is a big maybe, maybe, they're telling the truth." She patted him on the shoulder and then she was gone.  
  
Hawkeye mulled this over a bit before getting up himself and walking out the front door. He walked over to Colonel Potter's Office and knocked on the door.  
  
"Who is it?" Potter asked. His voice sounded distant.  
  
"It is I, master." Hawkeye grinned. "What do you wish of me?"  
  
"Come in, Pierce." He did as he was told.  
  
When he got inside he saw his CO sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. He looked thoughtful and far off.  
  
"I take it you've been to see the 'patients'?" He asked, not looking up at Hawkeye.  
  
"I can assume the same for you," was his only answer.  
  
Finally the Colonel rose. He began to wander around his desk and as he did his mind took a stroll with him. "I don't like it, Pierce. This is more suspicious than a bowl of week old chili."  
  
"Very colorful choice of words, sir. I think that's what was served for lunch today." Hawkeye cracked, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Potter stopped dead in his tracks and turned with the quickness of a twenty-year-old. "Pierce, this is serious business. Until those three wake up we have no clue as to who they really are and what they are doing here. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't think that any of this is really all that funny!" He stamped his foot. "Is that clear?"  
  
Hawkeye pretended that the meaning of life was stamped onto the top of his boot and refused to tear his eyes away from it. "Yes sir."  
  
"Now, go. And tell Radar to get in here. I need to make some-"  
  
At that moment, Radar himself rushed in. "You needed to see me, sir?"  
  
"I need you to-"  
  
"I'll go make some calls, sir." He started out again.  
  
"Don't you want to know who I want you to call?"  
  
"Colonel Riley at the 4075th and Dr. Sidney Freeman, sir."  
  
"Go ahead." After Radar had left, he added, "Sometimes I want to scream when he does that."  
  
"I know how you feel, sir." 


	5. The Morning After

1.1 Chapter Five  
  
2 Korea, 1952  
  
Sydney woke up in a strange room, in a strange bed, with strange people bustling about. Nurses were everywhere, but she didn't think that it was a hospital. At least, it was unlike any hospital she'd ever seen. She didn't feel like she'd been shot or wounded in any way, so she couldn't possibly have been taken to a local hospital after her latest mission. What was her latest mission? Then it hit her. The clocks!  
  
She must be in Khasinau's private hospital or something. Had she been knocked unconscious when she arrived? Or had she arrived unconscious? She couldn't remember. Nothing made sense anymore but it was no wonder because her head was swimming and she was sure she wasn't winning any Olympic medals for it.  
  
"Welcome to the M*A*S*H 4077th." A voice said beside her.  
  
She jumped a mile.  
  
A man with brown eyes and curly brown hair was sitting next to her.  
  
"The what? Where am I? Where's Khasinau?" She looked around her for any sign that her mother or Khasinau was in the room but all she saw were nurses and patients, most of whom were American, but there were a few Koreans. Then it hit her. Even before the man next to her said it, she knew.  
  
"You're at the 4077th M*A*S*H unit in Korea." He smiled. "Now, I don't know what this," he stumbled over the foreign word a bit, "Khasinau thing is all about, but I do know one thing. The doctors here are going to take care of you."  
  
"My father?" She suddenly remembered that she was not alone. "Vaughn?"  
  
"They're on either side of you." She looked just to make sure he wasn't lying. She still didn't fully trust the man yet. "Now I'm going to call Captain Pierce in here so that he can have a look at you. Then I'm going to evaluate you myself." He started to get up.  
  
"What do you mean? Evaluate. What, as in like, questioning? Interrogation?" She was worried now. They must think her a Communist or something.  
  
"No, my dear. Psychoanalysis. I am a psychiatrist. My name is Sidney Freeman. I will be evaluating all of you, just to make sure the bumps to your head didn't cause any damage." Then he walked off.  
  
"Bumps to my head?" She murmured, feeling the back of her head. There was a bandage there and a warm liquid was seeping through. Blood. She pulled her hand away and wiped it on the black jacket she was wearing.  
  
She sat up fully, trying to assess her situation. She had traveled back in time with her father and her handler to the Korean War by way of an old clock that was supposed to lead her to her mother. She was lying in a hospital bed flanked by the only two people she knew there, bleeding from the head, and probably looking very strange to these people of the 1950's. And to top it all off, she was going to be analyzed by a man who had the same first name as her and who looked as if he already thought her to be a nutcase.  
  
Her head was starting to reel again so she lay down, listening to the sounds of a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital that existed exactly 50 years before her time. It was too much for her. Thankfully the doctor came in a few minutes later. It was Benjamin Franklin Pierce, one of the men she had seen earlier in the photo at the warehouse. He was followed by Dr. Freeman, who was holding a notebook, a nervous young man she didn't recognize and another man from the photo, Colonel Potter.  
  
"Hello, Miss Bristow." Hawkeye said, smiling.  
  
He was a rather attractive man, she thought.  
  
"How do you know my name?" She asked, a little suspicious.  
  
"You had some ID on you when you came in here." He replied, giving her that same goofy schoolboy smile.  
  
"Oh." This defiantly worried her. The birth date on her driver's license would probably raise some questions. That was probably the reason they sent for the shrink.  
  
Hawkeye smiled again. "Let me do a round of introductions." He took a bow. "I am Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce, MD. But you can call me Hawkeye." He pointed to Freeman. "You've already met Sidney. This," he patted the nervous man on the head, "is Corporal Radar O'Reilly, our company clerk, and a damn good one at that."  
  
"H-how do you d-do, ma'am?" Radar asked, tipping his hat with a shaking hand. He sort of reminded Sydney of someone else she knew. She wondered if maybe Marshall was some distant relative of this young man.  
  
Hawkeye was beaming by now. "I've saved the best for last." He put his hands together and made the sound of a trumpet into them. "Colonel Sherman T. Potter, esquire." He did a little mock bow in his CO's direction.  
  
Potter shot him a look, but smiled at Sydney. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, young lady."  
  
Hawkeye pulled the chair that Dr. Freeman had sat in earlier up to Sydney's bedside and sat in it. He checked her eyes, her ears, her throat, her pulse, and her breathing. For someone in the army, he smelled incredible and she was surprised that she didn't drift off to sleep again. Soon the examination was over.  
  
"She's all yours, Doc." Hawkeye told Dr. Freeman. He walked over to where Potter and the young company clerk were standing and watched as the good doctor asked her questions and she answered. He wrote some things down as they talked.  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Sydney Bristow."  
  
"When is your birthday?"  
  
Sydney sighed, knowing that they wouldn't believe her. "April 17, 1974."  
  
"Hmm." He scribbled furiously in his notebook.  
  
"What is your occupation?"  
  
"Do we really need all this information? I mean, couldn't you just ask my name, rank and serial number and let me get some rest?"  
  
Hawkeye and Potter exchange looks. Dr. Freeman wrote something in his notebook.  
  
"I'm starting to feel a little woozy." She held her head. "Oh my. The room is spinning. Why are there two of you, Dr. Freeman?"  
  
She glanced upwards for a second to see if they were buying her story. They seemed to be concerned but she knew she'd have to go the extra mile.  
  
"Everything's going dark. I can't see you anymore."  
  
"Miss Bristow-" Dr. Freeman started.  
  
She put her wrist to her forehead. "I feel so weak."  
  
As she continued to fake her illness, Jack woke up and saw the crowd of people standing around the bed next to his. He heard Sydney's voice and thought that Khasinau might have sent his cronies to take care of her. Slowly getting out of bed, so as not to make a sound, he pulled a knife from his sock and tiptoed over to the group. He put his hand over the mouth of a young man wearing glasses and set the knife against his throat. He pulled him a little bit behind the crowd so the other people in the room wouldn't see him and neither would the ones in front of him. Sydney was still rambling like a mad man.  
  
"…I don't know what's going on, doctor. I feel like I'm burning up. Can't you help me? Why won't you…"  
  
Jack hissed in the young man's ear. "Don't say a word, just nod, all right?"  
  
The young man nodded.  
  
"Do you work for Khasinau?"  
  
The young man shook his head.  
  
"…dark, so dark. Rosebud! Rosebud! Oh God, help me to…"  
  
Jack pushed the knife a little bit closer to his throat. "Do you work for Khasinau?"  
  
The young man shook his head.  
  
The knife moved dangerously close to his skin. Jack knew as well as the young man did that if he were to shake his head, his throat would be slit.  
  
"…stop the voices! Stop the voices! Stop the-" Suddenly Sydney peered through Potter's arms at two figures behind him. One was the company clerk. The other one, holding a knife to his neck, was her father.  
  
Potter shook his finger at her. "I hope that you're quite finished, young lady! This man asked you a question! I expect you to answer it!"  
  
But Sydney didn't hear him. She was too busy staring at her father to take into account what he had said. She knew that if she spoke up too soon Jack would kill young Radar. By staring behind them it made them think she saw something.  
  
It worked. "Miss Bristow," Dr. Freeman asked, "what are you staring at?" He didn't seem the least bit phased by her outbursts. Slowly the psychiatrist turned around and saw Jack. "Don't!" He screamed.  
  
Taken aback, Jack dropped the knife and tried to plow through the men. He was, however, not victorious. Potter, Hawkeye and Dr. Freeman succeeded in holding him back. This gave Radar time to escape. He ran out the door at lightning speed.  
  
"Let me go! Now! I'll have you know that there is a team of agents waiting outside this very instant waiting to take this facility by force." Jack lied.  
  
Sydney shook her head. "No there isn't, Dad."  
  
"Sydney!" He was shocked that she had openly admitted that to the enemy.  
  
"Dad, these aren't Khasinau's men." She swallowed. "I think that I have some explaining to do."  
  
"Please, I'd appreciate it." Jack and Potter said at the same time.  
  
"Here goes…"  
  
She told them the whole story, at least the parts that she had figured out, with a little help from Colonel Potter, who explained what happened in the office. Both parties were confused and in disbelief, but the stories added up and they eventually had to admit that what they were saying was true.  
  
"This is unbelievable." Jack said, looking around the room. "We've actually gone back in time."  
  
Suddenly Sydney realized that one person was missing from the group. "Has Vaughn woken up yet?"  
  
Hawkeye took a peek over at the still unconscious form of Michael Vaughn lying on the bed to the left of Sydney. "Still out cold." He replied. "He must've hit his head pretty hard when you guys crash landed in the Colonel's office."  
  
Sydney nodded, but she was worried. What if Vaughn never woke up again? Or what if he did and he couldn't remember anything? Who would help her take down SD-6? The kiss from early that evening (was it still the same day?) played itself over in her mind, and then she shook it away.  
  
"Are you cold?" Dr. Freeman asked her.  
  
She realized that she must have visibly shaken so she shook her head no. "I'm just trying to put all of this into perspective. Dad's right. It is unbelievable."  
  
Hawkeye looked as if he was going to say something but stopped when Radar came running into Post-Op. Sydney could see over his shoulder that the sun was out. They must have slept through the night.  
  
"Choppers!" Radar exclaimed. "Lots of them!" Then he was gone.  
  
A voice came over the PA system. "All surgeons and nurses please report to Triage." It said. "And bring some coffee. It's going to be a long night."  
  
The nurses hurried to get outside. Colonel Potter was right behind them. Hawkeye, however, stayed behind for a moment.  
  
"Sidney," he said, "take Miss Bristow and her father to Radar. He can find them a place to stay until we can figure out what to do. We're going to need to take over this room now."  
  
"What about…" Sydney started, gesturing to Michael.  
  
"He's going to stay here until he wakes up." Hawkeye explained. "We can't risk having him leave this room."  
  
She nodded and let Dr. Freeman lead her and her father out the back way. 


	6. The First Day

1.1 Chapter Six  
  
1.1.1 Korea, 1952  
  
"Can I get a stretcher over here?" Margaret Houlihan screamed over the din of another incoming chopper. The man lying on the ground in front of her was bleeding profusely from the head. He would have to go immediately to the O.R. "A stretcher please!"  
  
About ten feet away from her BJ Hunnicut was checking a wounded man's pulse. It was weak and his leg was pretty bad off. "Klinger," he called to the nearest walking person, "plasma! Now!"  
  
"Yes sir!" Klinger replied, his pearls clicking as he ran.  
  
"This one's a lost cause!" Hawkeye told nurse Kellye. The man had been shot in the heart and had a weak pulse. "Give him something for the pain and then leave him here."  
  
The man moaned. He understood what was going on. Hawkeye felt bad for him, but there was nothing he could do.  
  
Father Mulcahy came over. "I'll take it from here, Hawkeye."  
  
Hawkeye nodded and ran off to meet the next chopper that landed.  
  
"Pray with me son." Mulcahy told the man calmly.  
  
"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is…"  
  
"I need some help over here!" Colonel Potter yelled. The man he was working on had started to have a seizure.  
  
Three nurses came over to help sedate him.  
  
Meanwhile, Radar was showing Sydney and Jack around the camp. He would point at something then say proudly, "That's the Colonel Potter's tent." Or, "That's the office. I work there."  
  
He was scared to death of Jack, and tried to avoid standing next to him at all costs, but he seemed to take an extreme liking to Sydney, a pattern that followed the two of them no matter where they went. He looked at her every few steps, almost as if he was checking to see if she was impressed. It was sort of sweet really.  
  
"And this," he said, stopping in front of a tent a little ways down from the Mess Tent, "is the VIP tent. You'll be staying here, Miss Bristow."  
  
He was becoming more like Marshall every minute. "Please, call me Sydney."  
  
"Sure thing, Miss Bristow." He looked at the ground. "I mean, sure thing, Sydney." The word seemed awkward to him. He shook it off. "Should we go see where you'll be staying, Mr. Bristow?" He asked not looking Jack in the eye.  
  
"Yes. I think we should." Jack said, starting to walk towards him.  
  
Radar yelped and stepped back even further. "F-follow me, Mr. B- Bristow." He looked up again. "Sydney."  
  
The trio made their way around the surge of people who were still working on bodies in Triage over to a messy-looking tent with the word "Swamp" on the door in red letters. Jack looked at in distaste.  
  
"This is where I'll be staying?" He asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yes sir, Mr. Bristow. You'll be rooming with Captains Hunnicut and Pierce and Major Winchester." He faltered. "If that's what you want, sir. I'm sure Father Mulcahy wouldn't mind you staying with him."  
  
Sydney gave her father a look. He shook his head. "No. That's not necessary." He cringed. "This will be fine."  
  
In the background there were shouts for plasma, adrenaline, stretchers, and Father Mulcahy. Sydney looked back at what was going on behind her and found that she had to look away. Men lay on the ground bleeding, some with body parts missing, others with them barely attached. Doctors ran to and fro, covered in blood and anything else imaginable. Nurses brought needles and IV's, while men not trained medically carried away dead bodies. It was the result of carnage and, though she had killed many men in her life, she felt like she was going to throw up.  
  
"Are you all right, Sydney?" Jack asked, genuinely concerned.  
  
"I'm fine." She lied, putting a hand over her mouth. "I'm fine." And then she ran off to find the latrine.  
  
When she emerged five minutes later, Jack took her by the arm and led her to the VIP tent. Someone had set up a cot for her inside and she lay down on it, tired and sick and worried all at the same time. She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.  
  
******************  
  
A few hours later a woman Sydney vaguely recognized woke her up. It was Margaret Houlihan, the only woman in the photo she had shown to Vaughn at the warehouse the night they had come here. She checked to see if Sydney had a fever, then checked to see if her pulse was normal. When she was satisfied she asked Sydney if she was feeling well enough to come and eat something because it was lunchtime. Sydney, who hadn't eaten in a while, nodded and sat up slowly. Her head started to hurt again and she remembered the bandage on the back of it. She checked to see if it was bleeding. It wasn't.  
  
The two women walked to the Mess Tent in silence. Margaret didn't know what to say and the same went for Sydney as well. What do you say to someone you weren't ever supposed to meet? Did you dare say anything for fear of giving away some hint about the future and what was in store? What if what she had told the men in Post-Op earlier changed the course of time? Would she even be born? These questions and more played on her mind. It was the first time since she had arrived at the 4077th that she even thought about what might happen as a result of their going back in time. She had seen Back to the Future. She knew about paradoxes and what happens if you mess around with the past. It scared her to think that she could start a chain of events that could have cataclysmic results. So she kept silent.  
  
When they entered the tent she saw that Jack was sitting at a table with Hawkeye, Potter, and three others from the photo: Father Mulcahy, BJ Hunnicut, and Charles Winchester III. They were laughing at something Hawkeye had said but stopped when they saw Sydney and Margaret approach.  
  
"Good afternoon, Miss Bristow." Colonel Potter said, standing up as a sign of respect.  
  
"Oh, please. Sit down." He did so and she added, "And it's Sydney, Colonel."  
  
She sat down next to her father. "Sydney, I take it you're feeling better?"  
  
"Yeah. I just had to rest a bit. That's all." She looked at the food on her father's tray and thought about skipping lunch.  
  
"I'm glad to hear it." Hawkeye said. "How's your head doing?"  
  
She smiled at him. "It's better, thank you."  
  
He smiled back.  
  
Potter suddenly realized something. "Oh, where are my manners? Sydney, I'd like you to meet Father Mulcahy…"  
  
"How do you do?" She asked.  
  
"Fine, thank you. Your father's been telling us about you." He seemed a little wary of both of them, but as a man of the cloth, that was understandable.  
  
Potter continued. "BJ Hunnicut…"  
  
"At your service, ma'am. I certainly hope you find yourself as comfortable as you can here." He grinned. "It's hard, but we manage."  
  
"And Charles Winchester." Potter concluded.  
  
"It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear." He reached over the table and took hold of her hand. "If you need anything, anything at all, please, feel free to come to me."  
  
Sydney started to thank him, but Hawkeye cut in. "Hey, Chuckles, you're drooling all over the table. Stop it before we have to send for the Coast Guard."  
  
Charles pulled his hand back. "Ah, I should've known it, Pierce. Even in the presence of a lady you find it impossible to behave yourself." He looked at Sydney. "Well, you know what they say. You can't teach an old dog new tricks."  
  
"They also say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe if you leave we'll start to like you more." BJ said.  
  
"That's a pretty big maybe, Beej." Hawkeye replied.  
  
"Would you two shut your yappers?" Colonel Potter snapped. "Now we've got to figure out what to do about these two." He turned to Jack who was sitting directly to the right of him. "Now, I don't know about you, but I feel it's imperative that we get the two of you back to your own time. Too many people know about you. I think the less time you spend here the better."  
  
"I agree." Jack said. "I know better than anyone here the impact that our being here could have."  
  
"Was there any information in the book about how to go back?" Sydney asked, being careful not to give out too much information.  
  
"None so far. But the text hasn't been completely decoded yet." Jack said, being equally as careful.  
  
"Besides that," Hawkeye reminded them, "you've got someone else to worry about here."  
  
Sydney look confused. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"The other man that was with you still hasn't woken up yet."  
  
"Oh my gosh, I forgot about Vaughn."  
  
Jack sighed. "So what do we do until then?"  
  
"You try and figure out what to do while we try to figure out how to patch up this Vaughn character." Potter decided. "Radar's shown you where you'll be staying?"  
  
"Yes. He has." Jack said. "We're so grateful for your hospitality. It's been more than we could ever repay."  
  
"Aw, that's okay." Hawkeye assured them. "We here at the 4077th are known for hospitality."  
  
Potter gave a short laugh. "That's a hoot, Pierce."  
  
Sydney stood up. "I think I'll go get something to eat."  
  
"Try the Filet Mignon." Hawkeye told her. "It's heavenly."  
  
BJ joined in. "And don't forget the Chicken Cordon Bleu. Igor's got a knack for fine French cuisine."  
  
She smiled as she walked away. This was a completely unreal situation but it could've been worse. She could've ended up at Khasinau's and gotten herself killed. But she sort of regretted not finding her mother. She wanted so bad to get revenge. She didn't like that about herself but it was the truth. She got in line, had slop dumped on her tray and sat down at the table to "enjoy" her lunch.  
  
Back at Post-Op Vaughn was still out cold and didn't show signs of waking up anytime soon. 


	7. The Adventure Continues

1 Chapter Seven  
  
2  
  
3 Korea, 1952  
  
Later that afternoon Sydney and Jack met Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger. The two of them were standing next to Vaughn's bed, while Margaret checked his status and explained to them what might have happened that would cause him to be unconscious for such a long period of time. Suddenly an olive skinned man came in wearing a black evening gown, pearls and army boots.  
  
"Major Houlihan, you're needed in the OR. The Korean man with the severed leg?"  
  
"Yeah?" Margaret asked. "What about him?"  
  
"He wasn't put under all the way. Now we've got a pretty P-O'ed Korean trying to take a bite out of Captain Hunnicut. They need you to put him under again. Everyone else is trying to get him under control."  
  
"God, can't one day in this place be normal?" She lamented as she hurried out. "We got people time-traveling and now cannibals. What's next?"  
  
Sydney and Jack had been staring at the man ever since he'd walked in the door. Sydney realized who it was after a minute or two. He had started to leave behind Margaret but Sydney stopped him.  
  
"Sergeant Klinger?" She asked.  
  
"No, I'm just a Corporal, Miss." He replied, stopping at the door to the OR.  
  
Sydney realized that he must have been promoted to Sergeant sometime later on and hoped that her mistake hadn't changed anything. "Oh, I'm sorry, Corporal. I'm not used to all these uniforms yet."  
  
"That's okay. And you are?"  
  
"Sydney Bristow. This is my father Jack. And the man on the bed is Michael Vaughn."  
  
"Oh, so you're the ones that my clock brought here, huh?"  
  
"I'm afraid so."  
  
"I didn't know why the CIA wanted it. Now I sort of understand…I think."  
  
Jack shook his head. "You couldn't possibly fully comprehend the situation. We're not even sure of the details."  
  
"Well, whatever the story is, I'm really sorry. This isn't my fault you know."  
  
"We understand." Sydney assured him. She looked him up and down and was about to ask him something about his attire, but decided against it. She didn't think that it was really worth it.  
  
"Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta get back in there."  
  
"We're sorry to have kept you Corporal." Jack replied.  
  
He retreated, the hem of his dress swishing against the back of his boots. The moment he'd left they both burst out laughing.  
  
******************************  
  
Hawkeye and BJ were mixing up a few martinis when Charles and Jack walked in after dinner that night.  
  
"Hey, you two want to join us for a little nightcap?" Hawkeye asked, waving his olive-garnished drink at the two men.  
  
"No, thank you." Charles replied, sitting down on his cot. "I prefer my drink sans shrapnel. I think I will stick with my wine." He reached under the bed and pulled out a bottle of red. "Care to, uh, join me, Bristow?"  
  
"Actually, I'm quite interested in this little still they've got here." He said, sitting next to BJ. He wasn't too impressed with his surroundings and the people in it, but he needed a drink to calm his nerves and help bring things into perspective.  
  
"It's made from scratch." BJ explained.  
  
"Which is also," a loud pop came from Charles' side of the room as he opened the bottle, "what I expect is in their alcohol as well."  
  
"Speak up Charles! Remember what your mother and I told you about muttering." Hawkeye scolded. "And be careful with that cork or you'll put someone's eye out."  
  
Charles sneered and poured himself a glass of wine.  
  
"Pour me a martini boys," Jack decided. "How bad can it be?"  
  
"You ever drank gasoline?" BJ asked.  
  
"No, I can't say that I have." He said, unsure of why he'd been asked that.  
  
"Too bad. It might've prepared you for this." BJ handed him a glass and Jack took it warily.  
  
"Don't worry," Hawkeye assured him. "What doesn't kill you will only put you in critical condition."  
  
"Besides, we're doctors." BJ explained. "We keep a portable stomach pump under Charles' bed."  
  
Charles didn't seem the least bit amused.  
  
"Bottoms up, Bristow," Hawkeye urged.  
  
"Here's goes nothing." Jack took a swig and swallowed hard. Then he made a face. "That was probably the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted." Then he drank the rest and as he ate the olive said, "Pour me another."  
  
Hawkeye and BJ cackled as they fixed another martini for their newfound friend. And Jack, though he didn't want to admit it, actually felt like he belonged somewhere for once.  
  
*************************************  
  
The VIP tent wasn't exactly Sydney's idea of a five-star hotel, but it was better than some of the places she'd slept during a few of her missions. She dragged herself into bed at about eight that evening and finally fell asleep a little while later.  
  
***************************************  
  
Jack felt much more comfortable in his surroundings than Sydney did. For the time being at least, he was quite content to stay in the Swamp drinking with the three M*A*S*H surgeons and talking. War-made martinis have the tendency to be more potent than regular ones and after about two or three the usually reserved Jack had thrown his tie and coat across the room onto his cot. After the next two he had started to talk about his wife. He even found himself singing sea shanties at the top of his lungs with Pierce and, when he had passed out, tying Winchester's boots to his wrists. It was weird but, without the pressures of being an agent, of fearing for your life and your daughter's life all the time, he was able to be less of a jackass and more like a human.  
  
"So Jack, what sort of businessssss are you in?" Hawkeye asked, throwing a baseball up in the air and catching it again.  
  
"Classssssified." Jack slurred. "Meanssss I can't tell you. Which isss why I'm gonna."  
  
BJ shook his finger at the man sitting on the floor of the tent. There were three fingers as well as three Jacks and he shook his head before speaking. "Now, now, (hic) we don't want chew to get into trouble. We get into (hic) enough of that our (hic) selves."  
  
"Iss thisss really classssssified? Or are you jussst pullin' our chainssss?" Hawkeye asked.  
  
"I'm a sssssssecret agent." Jack confessed.  
  
Hawk and BJ stared at each other for a second then started to laugh. They laughed even more when Hawkeye's baseball hit him in the face.  
  
"No really, guysss." Jack insisted. "I work for the CIA."  
  
"Yeah (hic). And I'm (hic) Cleopatra, Queen of the (hic) Nile." BJ retorted.  
  
"Nice to meet you, your Highness." A familiar voice from behind them said. They all turned to see Potter standing in the doorway of the tent. "Hello boys." He sneered, stepping over Charles' snoring form and into the tent.  
  
"Hello, Colonel!" Hawkeye cried jovially. "Care to join usss for a drink?"  
  
"No thanks Pierce. I've actually come with a telegram from a Mr. Sherman T. Potter."  
  
"Hey," BJ realized, pulling his lips from his glass, "that's you!"  
  
"Great observation, Cleo." Potter replied.  
  
Hawkeye clapped his hands giddily. "Come on, Colonel! Read usss our telegram!"  
  
"All right, Pierce, hold your horses."  
  
"Holding Colonel!"  
  
Potter cleared his throat and lifted up a blank piece of paper. "To Captains Pierce and Hunnicut and to Mr. Jack Bristow. Stop. You are waking the whole camp up with your shenanigans. Stop. Shut up and go to sleep." He slapped Hawkeye, who was jumping up and down on the floor like it was Christmas, on the back of the head. "Stop!"  
  
Hawkeye rubbed the back of his head. "OWWWWW!" He yelled.  
  
Potter pulled BJ's glass, which was newly refilled, out of his hands and dumped it over Charles' face. He woke up sputtering.  
  
"What in the name of God is going on…Colonel? Colonel! How, uh, nice of you to, uh, to drop by." He chuckled.  
  
"I'm disappointed in all of you. The three of you need to be up and about ready for surgery tomorrow. Radar says there's a whole bunch of wounded coming this way. They'll be here at approximately O seven hundred."  
  
"What?" BJ asked, suddenly sobered.  
  
"Yeah, you heard me right. And if I don't see your little behinds behind a body by that time I'll personally yank the plug on this all night saloon!" Before he left he looked at Jack who had stood up. "And you…I don't know what they behave like in the future, but as long as you're here you behave how we behave in a war. Understood?"  
  
"Colonel," Hawkeye butted in, "it wasn't his fault. We-"  
  
"I don't care whose fault it was. I want this place cleaned and the four of you pressed by tomorrow morning or I'll press you myself!" And with that he was gone.  
  
Jack, who felt like a complete fool, especially at being talked down to by a man who was relatively close to his own age, walked over to his bed and, without even bothering to take his shoes off, lay down and went to sleep. Charles did the same, except he unknotted his bootlaces and took the boots off from his wrists before crawling into bed. Hawkeye and BJ cleaned up a little before going to bed themselves. They felt terrible for the way they had acted and even worse for getting Jack in hot water with Potter. They each silently vowed that they would make it up to him somehow. 


	8. Bearer of Bad News

Chapter Eight  
  
Korea, 1952  
  
The next morning at seven o'clock sharp five truckloads and three helicopters worth of wounded came into the compound. Hawkeye, BJ and Charles were woken up by a voice shouting: "Wounded in the compound! Run, don't walk, to get your very own soldier! Some assembly required!" It was the PA system. Hawkeye yawned, groaned and held his stomach as he sat up in bed. BJ could hardly lift his head. And Charles wished that the ringing in his ears would stop so that he could go back to sleep. Just then, the door banged open and Potter ran in.  
  
"Good mornin' my fine feathered fiends! How'd ya sleep?" Potter asked.  
  
"Like a baby." Hawkeye replied. "I'm surprised I didn't wake up in my own drool."  
  
"That's good to hear! Now get out of bed on the double!"  
  
BJ stood up, his head pounding. "Doubling sir!" He slid into a pair of pants. "Hell, maybe even tripling."  
  
"Did someone say 'tripping'?" Charles asked, just now daring to open his eyes. He blinked a few times. He had never realized how bright the sun could be at seven in the morning.  
  
"You too, Chuckles." Potter ordered. "Get up and get out. We got more wounded then you can shake a stick at."  
  
"If that's your idea of a good time." Hawkeye said, drowsily.  
  
Within the next few minutes the four of them had left the sleeping Jack and the Swamp and found themselves walking into another swamp, a swamp of bodies. They knew it was going to be a long morning.  
  
******************************  
  
Sydney walked to breakfast that morning alone. The doctors and nurses were busy in the OR and Jack, as she found out when she got to the mess tent, had woken up before her. He was already sitting at a table in the front of the tent drinking coffee. She got her breakfast and sat down across from him.  
  
"Dad?" She asked in disbelief when she'd gotten a good look at him. "You look like you were hit by a truck."  
  
It was true. Jack was wearing his white shirt un-tucked with no tie and the first few buttons were unbuttoned. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes. When he spoke his voice was hoarse and he grabbed his head tighter and tighter with every word he spoke.  
  
"Last night…in the Swamp…got drunk…so drunk…" He drifted off and gave Sydney a look that said "Please, put me out of my misery."  
  
"I've never seen you hung-over before." Sydney marveled.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't it? I wonder how the other three managed. They left early this morning. Some wounded came in or something. I don't know how long they've been gone, but if they feel half as sick as I do, I'd hate to be their patients."  
  
From outside they could hear people talking. It was Hawkeye, Margaret, and BJ and they were headed towards the tent.  
  
"I can't believe the two of you got drunk!" Margaret was saying. "I mean, I won't say it's not like you, because it is, but I didn't think you'd drag that poor man into your personal Mardi Gras."  
  
They had entered the tent and were standing in line for their breakfast. Sydney strained to hear what they were saying.  
  
"Poor man? Who, Jack? He practically invited himself." Hawkeye explained. He looked at his tray then at Igor and frowned. "Is there some sort of army regulation that says that all food must be tortured and killed before you feed it to us? These eggs look like they used to be road kill!" He moved on. "Besides, Margaret, what does Jack have to do with us anyway? We weren't even talking about him."  
  
BJ smiled devilishly. "I think Margaret's got a crush."  
  
They were approaching the table and Sydney stopped straining to hear. Jack, who was listening as well, blushed ever so slightly. Sydney started to think that there was a lot about her father that she still needed to learn.  
  
"Hush up, Hunnicut." Margaret ordered. And then, a little lower, but still loud enough for Sydney to hear, "And I do not have a crush."  
  
"Fine. Sure. We believe you." Hawkeye said, standing over Sydney's shoulder. "May I sit here?"  
  
Sydney turned and smiled. "Sure."  
  
As Hawk sat next to her, BJ went over next to Jack and Margaret took a seat at the head of the table.  
  
"Margaret," BJ teased, "you sure you want to sit there? I'm willing to switch seats if you'd like." Margaret kicked him under the table. "Oooo, Hawk, I think we got a feisty one here."  
  
"Mornin' troops." Potter said standing behind Margaret. Nobody had noticed he'd come in.  
  
"Now you have to move." BJ told Margaret.  
  
"No, no, she's fine where she is." Potter said.  
  
Margaret gave BJ an "I-told-you-so" look.  
  
"Actually," Potter told them, "it's Miss Bristow I need to see."  
  
Sydney looked up from her eggs. "Me?"  
  
"Yeah. Our very own Coco Chanel has graciously agreed to open his closet to you." He looked at Sydney. "That is, if you don't mind wearing dresses that a man has already worn."  
  
She looked at her father then at Margaret and lastly at Potter. "Uh, yeah, I guess. It's better then wearing the same thing everyday, right?"  
  
"Great. Follow me then."  
  
The two of them left the mess hall and headed for Klinger's tent. When they got there, he had about twenty dresses already flung around the room and was digging around for more.  
  
"Ahem." Potter cleared his throat in order to get Klinger's attention.  
  
"Colonel Potter, sir." Klinger got off of his knees and stood at attention.  
  
"At ease Corporal." Potter ordered. He picked up a blue dress off of Klinger's bed. "This little lady here has decided to take you up on your offer. I take it you've already begun to clean house, so to speak."  
  
"Yes sir." Klinger walked over to the two of them, stepping over dresses as he went. "Miss Bristow, mi footlocker es su footlocker."  
  
"Gracias." Sydney replied.  
  
"You can pick out any of these dresses, but leave the ones you don't want. I need to wear something too."  
  
Sydney spent about five minutes picking out dresses for that week. She figured that she'd only be there for a few more days, God willing. If it was longer, she could always come back for a few more. She thanked Klinger, went to her tent and changed into a black sparkling evening gown. It wasn't as nice as some of the ones she'd worn on missions but she would manage. The only problem was that it was a little big on her. She put her shoes back on and walked back to the mess tent.  
  
The moment she walked in the door the tent got quiet. Everyone was staring at her, most predominantly of all, Hawkeye. She walked over to the table a little embarrassed. When she sat down, they all started talking again.  
  
"Wow," Hawkeye said with admiration. "You sure look better in that dress than Klinger does."  
  
Sydney laughed. "Thank you." For some reason, she couldn't explain it, she felt a little giddy, like she was at the prom or something.  
  
Her food was cold but it was still, for the most part, edible. Margaret told Sydney and Jack the news on Vaughn. He was still unconscious. There was a slight possibility that he was in a coma.  
  
"I know that that puts a damper in your plans, but there's no way of knowing whether or not he can survive the trip back. Or would it be forward? Anyway, I don't want to risk it." Margaret said.  
  
"That's all right. We aren't exactly sure if we can go back the same way we came in the first place. I'm willing to make a bet that we can but I wouldn't stake Sydney's or Michael's lives on a it." Jack replied.  
  
Sydney set down her fork. "Where's the clock now."  
  
"It's still in Potter's office I think." Hawkeye said. "I don't know why he would move it elsewhere. Although, it could also be in his room. Klinger wanted him to put it in his footlocker for safekeeping."  
  
Jack nodded. "At least we know where it is." He took one last swig of his coffee. "I think I'll go take a walk down there. Do want to come with me, Syd?"  
  
"No, I'm gonna sit here for a while." She held up her coffee mug. "I haven't quite finished my tar yet."  
  
BJ clapped. "You're fitting in already, Miss Bristow. Soon we'll have you drinking martinis and running Charles' underwear up the flagpole."  
  
Jack walked out of the tent.  
  
"I don't think so. After the way my father looked this morning, I think I'll pass on the martinis." She smiled, but after taking a sip from her coffee, the smile soon vanished. "How do you people drink this stuff?"  
  
"Very easily," Hawkeye told her. "The day we were assigned here Uncle Sam ordered that our taste buds be burned off."  
  
"Besides, we just choke this stuff down for meals. Then we high-tail it over to the Officer's Club for real drinks." BJ explained.  
  
"Officer's Club?" Sydney asked, setting her mug down again.  
  
"Yeah. It comes fully equipped with a bartender." Hawkeye pointed to the man dishing out slop across from them. "Igor. Personally, I think the only reason he hasn't been stoned to death with his own biscuits is that they're all afraid that there isn't another guy here good enough to fill his shot glasses."  
  
"Ah." Sydney nodded. "Maybe I'll check it out while I'm here."  
  
"Hawk'll be there." BJ told her. "He'll be the one swimming in his drink."  
  
"Ha ha Beej. Very funny." Hawkeye looked at Sydney. "Hey. How about later on tonight I buy you a drink?"  
  
Sydney stared at him for a moment before answering him. "I'm sorry Hawkeye, I can't." Then she stood up and was gone.  
  
"Smooth Hawkeye, real smooth." BJ came over to sit by him and patted him on the back. "Maybe next time you want to hit on 'Future Girl' you could do it a little more subtly."  
  
*******************************  
  
Jack and Potter were looking over the clock in his office when Radar came in with two messages for the Colonel. The first was that Miss Bristow wanted to talk to her father and the second one was that Colonel Riley of the 4075th had finally called him back. Potter excused himself and he and Sydney crossed each other as he was leaving his office.  
  
"My word! Klinger certainly got you all gussied up, didn't he? You look beautiful Sydney." Potter gushed.  
  
"Thank you, sir." She replied. Radar had thought so too. The moment she had walked into the office he'd dropped the phone and stared at her for what seemed like forever. It was rather flattering but the man on the other end of the line didn't seem to think so and he kept yelling, "Radar! Pick up the phone! Hello?"  
  
After Potter was gone Jack called Syd over to him. "Look at this." He pointed at the clock. It no longer said 10:19 as before. It now said 12:00.  
  
"Did you change the time on this one?" She asked him.  
  
"No. And neither did Potter. It must reset itself after it's been used."  
  
"That would mean that the one we used…"  
  
"Reads twelve as well." Jack finished for her. "Meaning that we can't get back until someone else sets that clock and we set to the exact time they do."  
  
"Oh God." She moaned. "Then we're stuck here?"  
  
"Unless someone goes into that warehouse and turns it out of curiosity."  
  
"But no one uses it anymore. All that's in there now is old junk that was left there years ago."  
  
"Then, yes, we are stuck here."  
  
*************************  
  
Nurse Kellye checked on Vaughn that night. He still hadn't moved and she was starting to wonder if maybe they should send him to Tokyo General instead. She suggested this to Margaret who turned the idea down. They couldn't risk sending someone who technically hadn't been born yet to a major hospital. She said to keep him on fluids and to check on him as often as she could. Kellye nodded and went to the next patient. Margaret sat with Vaughn for a little while hoping, for Sydney and Jack's sake, that he wasn't comatose and that he would wake as soon as possible so that they could back to their own time. That night she even said a prayer for him, hoping that God, if he existed in a place as horrible as this, would hear her and help them. 


	9. It Happened On The Way To The M*A*S*H

Chapter Nine  
  
Korea, 1952  
  
It wasn't until the next night that Sydney checked out the Officer's Club. Jack, who was sitting with Vaughn for a little while (which had surprised Sydney), had promised to join her a little later. As soon as she walked in the door she was bombarded by the smell of booze and vomit. It wasn't a comforting scent and she almost left. Then she saw Charles motioning for her to join him. She went up to the bar, ordered vodka, and then, with drink in hand, walked over to the Major.  
  
"How do you do, Miss Bristow?" He asked, looking her over appreciatively. She was wearing the red- and white-striped dress today. "We haven't had much time to talk since you arrived here, have we?"  
  
"No," she agreed, "we haven't." She was sort of glad that they hadn't considering that every time they did he would try to tell her mind-numbing stories of his life in Boston or his love of Tokyo.  
  
"I don't know why I'm asking this question, seeing as how there's no way on Earth the answer could be yes, but are you enjoying your stay at the 4077th?"  
  
"Actually, it hasn't been that bad. The people here are really great and very understanding." She smiled. "It's better than a lot of places I've been to in my life."  
  
"Ah, yes. I know the feeling." He changed the subject rather quickly. "Tell me, what is it…uh…what is it like? In the future?"  
  
"I don't think that I'm really supposed to say anything. I think that that's sort of a time-traveling rule." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sure that you'll find out in your own time."  
  
"Right. Uh, would you excuse me?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." He left and was soon replaced by a man she hadn't seen before. He smelled strongly of gasoline and when he held out his hand it was covered in grease. "Um, hello."  
  
"Hi. Name's Rizzo. Luther Rizzo." He shook her hand. "I've been hearing an awful lot about you and I just had to come and meet you myself."  
  
"Well, I'm pleased to meet you." She wasn't really all that pleased but, when in Rome…  
  
"Pleasure's all mine." He smiled cockily. "And let me tell you, if you're ever in need of a Jeep, you come see me down at the motor pool. I'll fix you right up."  
  
"Thank you, I guess."  
  
"Miss Bristow?" Someone behind her was calling her name. It was Igor.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"This is from the man over there." In his hand was a gin and tonic. His other hand was pointing to none other than Hawkeye Pierce. He waved to her, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
She shook her head. "Excuse me." She left the two men staring at her with their mouths hanging open. "Captain Pierce?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Bristow?" He had been talking to BJ, but now turned to face her.  
  
"What did I tell you about buying me a drink?"  
  
"You said you couldn't yesterday. I figured maybe today you might be in need of a refreshing beverage so I thought, 'What the hell?'"  
  
"When I said I couldn't I didn't mean that I couldn't yesterday. I meant that I couldn't ever."  
  
BJ stood up. "I think I'll go finish Miss Bristow's refreshing beverage if you don't mind."  
  
"Hawkeye, I know what you're trying to do." Sydney said after BJ had left.  
  
"And what's that, pray tell?" His smile was about the size of a jack-o- lantern's and Sydney was tempted to stick his head on a scarecrow's body and stick him out in the middle of the nearest field.  
  
"You're trying to…you're trying-" She faltered.  
  
"I'm waiting."  
  
"I don't know what you're trying to do, all right? I just wish that, whatever it is, you'd stop." She was out of there faster than BJ could down her G&T. Hawkeye quickly followed after her.  
  
"Sydney!" He called to her. But she didn't stop, she just kept running. "Sydney!" He ran to catch up with her and by the time she had reached the Swamp he had reached her. He grabbed her by the arm and turned her around to face him.  
  
"Let go of me!" She cried trying to twist out of his grasp.  
  
"Not until you talk to me." He insisted.  
  
"About what? The fact that whenever I'm around you're continuously hitting on me?"  
  
"Is that what you think I'm doing? Hitting on you?"  
  
"I'm not stupid." He still hadn't let go and now he had both of her arms in his hands. Sydney knew she could've easily got away but decided that kicking his ass with her Krav Maga skills wouldn't go over well with Colonel Potter.  
  
"Did I say you were? All I said was that-"  
  
"All you said was that you wanted to buy me a drink. You've done that. Then you said you wanted to talk and we're talking. What more do you want?" She was afraid of his answer.  
  
"I don't know what I want Sydney." He let go of her. "I've never met anyone like you."  
  
"Well, then maybe you should get out more." She turned on her heel and started to walk away, but Hawkeye pulled her back and kissed her roughly on the lips. Not at all like the kiss that Vaughn had given her a few days ago. She pulled away quickly, not because someone was coming, like it had been with Vaughn, but because she didn't want to be kissing Hawkeye. She found him undeniably attractive but she didn't feel right around him. There was just something about him that made her uncomfortable.  
  
She smacked him across the cheek and he grabbed her again. Without thinking she whipped her leg around and kicked his footing out from underneath him. Then she ran off to the VIP tent.  
  
Hawkeye lay on the ground, trying to get his breath back. He rubbed his cheek, realizing that he'd deserved everything. He'd never considered himself to be a jackass but what he'd just done had put him in the running for "Idiot of the Year".  
  
Then it hit him.  
  
****************************  
  
Jack sat next to Vaughn's bed, looking him over and wondering what was going to happen if they did manage to find a way back and he still hadn't woken up yet. Michael had never been his favorite person. He tended to make stupid mistakes and caused Syd more trouble than anyone else he knew. With the exception of himself, that is.  
  
Father Mulcahy was making his nightly rounds, checking on patients, praying with them. He had been keeping an eye on Jack for sometime now and finally resolved to go over and talk to him.  
  
"May I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, motioning for Jack to slide down a little so that he could sit on the empty bed that served as Jack's chair. Jack nodded and moved over. For a moment there was silence. Then, "I was a little wary of you when you first came here. I didn't fully comprehend the situation. But now that I've had some time to think about it, I've come to realize that you are a prime example of God at work." He saw that Jack was a little skeptical. "But I'm speaking from the point of view of a man of the cloth, mind you."  
  
"You think that this is just part of some master plan, don't you?" Jack asked. It was the first thing he'd said since the moment Mulcahy had walked through the door. "That the three of us are here because God wants us to do something?"  
  
"Well…yes." He pointed at Vaughn. "Don't you find it a little strange that this man is the only one out of the three of you that hasn't regained consciousness? Even if you find a way out of here, there's no way you can leave. You're here in order to impact us somehow. Maybe to help us, maybe to warn us, maybe to change us. Who knows?" He looked Heavenward then back at Jack. "I could just be taking a random act of weirdness and turning it into an at of God, I can't tell for sure. But, I do think that this is no coincidence." He stood up to leave.  
  
"Father?" Jack started, not looking up. He kept his eyes fixed on Vaughn. "Would you pray for him?"  
  
Mulcahy put an arm on Jack's shoulder. "Of course, my son."  
  
All of a sudden Jack started to sob. "I just keep thinking, what if it had been Sydney? What if she was the one lying here? I care about her, I really do. And I wish that she could see that." It had been a long time since he'd cried and it felt weird to have tears running down his face. "I've tried to rid myself of emotion. I'd been hurt before and I didn't want to start developing a relationship with Syd and then end up losing her."  
  
"I understand, Jack." Mulcahy sat down again with him. "Just let it out. I'm here for you."  
  
**************************  
  
Hawkeye knocked on the door of the VIP tent. Sydney didn't answer but he knew she was in there, had saw her go in. He knocked again.  
  
"Sydney, let me in." KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! "Sydney, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to me earlier." KNOCK KNOCK! "Sydney I know who you really are!"  
  
The door was flung open. "And who am I?" She yelled.  
  
"You're a secret agent!" He yelled back.  
  
Suddenly her hand was on his mouth and she was dragging him inside. "Keep your voice down." She hissed.  
  
"So it's true?"  
  
"Where did you hear this from?"  
  
"Your father. He was so drunk that he didn't know what he was saying."  
  
"He told you that I was…"  
  
"No, he told us that he was. But that little maneuver you pulled out there kind of gave away the game."  
  
"You can't tell anyone about this." She told him.  
  
"Or what? You'll have to kill me?" He cracked. She wasn't smiling. His own smile faded after a couple of seconds. "Oh."  
  
"Yeah, oh."  
  
"Don't worry. I can keep my mouth shut." She gave him a doubtful look. "No, really. You just wait and see."  
  
"Hawkeye…" He didn't say anything. "Hawkeye." He still wasn't talking. "Hawkeye!"  
  
"Shh! I can't talk to anyone."  
  
She shoved him and he fell over. As he picked himself up from the ground he asked, "Do ya think you could teach me that little kick thing?"  
  
"No problem." She kicked her foot out again and he was down on the ground in seconds flat.  
  
"Owww…" 


	10. Warning: Danger Hawkeye Pierce

Chapter Ten  
  
Korea, 1952  
  
The next day Jack seemed a little more standoffish than usual at breakfast. He and Father Mulcahy sat at a totally different table than the rest of them, talking in low voices. Sydney tried to hear but to no avail.  
  
"You're worried about him, aren't you?" Margaret asked Sydney. She had noticed that Syd was craning her neck to hear the conversation going on between the Father and Jack.  
  
Sydney nodded. "I know that I shouldn't be, but I can't help it. He's my father and no matter what we've been through, I still care enough to worry when he acts like this."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, he went to visit Michael last night, saying that he'd meet up with me later and then he never showed up. Now he's over there with Father Mulcahy talking about God knows what."  
  
"No pun intended." Hawkeye quipped.  
  
BJ gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure he's fine, Syd. He's probably just under a lot of stress. It's not everyday that you find yourself in a time and place that you were never supposed to be at."  
  
"You're probably right, Beej. I just…I'm worried about him." She smiled. "I guess I should just let him be. He's a grown man right?"  
  
"Don't ask us. We haven't quite grown up ourselves." Hawkeye looked her in the eye and noticed that it took a moment for her to look away.  
  
Sydney still felt a little strange about what had happened between them the night before. It had taken her a while to fall asleep. She kept playing the kiss over and over in her mind, not sure whether or not she was as angry about it as she thought she was. She wanted to be, but Hawkeye was a handsome man and she found it hard not to feel butterflies in her stomach every time she saw him.  
  
"Sydney? Yoo-hoo? Anybody home?" It was Hawkeye who brought her back to reality.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Oh good, you're back. For a minute there, we thought we'd lost you."  
  
"Sorry. I was just thinking."  
  
"About Michael?" Margaret asked.  
  
Not wanting them to know what she'd really been thinking about she nodded her head. "I haven't seen him much since I got here. I feel terrible now for bringing him into this." She spoke through clenched teeth, angry with herself for what she had caused him. "It was my stupid mistake. I should never have-"  
  
"You couldn't have known Syd." Her father said, sitting next to Margaret on the bench. BJ and Hawk noticed a significant change in the color of her cheeks.  
  
"Your father's right, Sydney." Father Mulcahy agreed. "This is new to all of us."  
  
Hawkeye looked at his watch. "I'd love to stay and chat but I've got a date with eight very handsome men in Post-Op." He stood up then turned around again to face Sydney. "Why don't you come with me? You could visit Michael, see how he's been doing."  
  
"It might do you good." BJ encouraged her, seeing the look of uncertainty on her face.  
  
She thought about it for a minute then nodded. "You're right. Let's go."  
  
The two of them walked out of the tent together. It was silent for a few seconds then, at the same time:  
  
"Hawkeye-"  
  
"Sydney-"  
  
They laughed nervously.  
  
"Ladies first." He insisted.  
  
"No, please, I'd like to hear what you have to say."  
  
He stopped and looked at her. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. I usually don't act like that."  
  
"It's okay. It just sort of surprised me, that's all. And anyway, I'm the one who should be apologizing. Did I hurt you when I…?"  
  
"Only my pride." He paused. "And a few things I don't like to mention in the presence of women"  
  
They continued to walk.  
  
"The thing is, Hawk, I'm not sure that I'm supposed to get involved with you or anyone else here. It might alter the course of history."  
  
"What kind of effect could one kiss have?"  
  
"Well, say that you have a disease that you don't know about and I catch it. If I die, I'd never be born, and neither would my children or-"  
  
"You have children?"  
  
"No, that's not the point-"  
  
"Then what is the point? I'm not following you."  
  
"The point is that I can't get involved with you."  
  
"For the sake of your unborn children."  
  
"Yes! I mean, no. I mean…"  
  
"I understand perfectly, Sydney. You don't have to spell it out for me." He opened the door and they went inside. "Hello, hello, hello! Welcome to Chez M*A*S*H! For the next hour you will get the chance to be the first to witness the death-defying feats of The Great Hawkini and his lovely assistant, Miss Sydney! Now for my first trick I…"  
  
Hawkeye's voice continued as Sydney walked over to Vaughn. He was pale and still on the bed. She knelt beside him and reached out for his hand. It was warm but it felt empty. She wanted to cry and found that the tears wouldn't come. Hawkeye had finished his Vaudeville routine and was going around to all the patients, checking their pulse, making sure the dressings on their wounds were wrapped okay. He took a look into some of the men's eyes and throats and said a few funny or encouraging words to each of them. Then, at last, he came to Sydney and Vaughn.  
  
"Hey." He said, sitting on the edge of Michael's bed to check on him.  
  
"Hey." She let go of Vaughn's hand and stood up. "What's the prognosis? Is he getting better?"  
  
"There's really no sure way to tell that right now. We have to be patient about things like this. As far as I can tell, he could be hibernating until next December."  
  
She didn't say anything, just nodded and started to walk away, hugging herself. She passed by one soldier who whistled at her.  
  
"My, my, Dr. Pierce. Are all the nurses here this beautiful?" He asked. Sydney looked at him for a minute then turned away. "Aw, come on, honey. Give a wounded GI something to dream about."  
  
She was getting mad and Hawkeye could see that. He came over to the soldier's bed and said, "Easy there, Private Jackson. She's not a nurse, she's a guest and she deserves to be treated with some respect."  
  
"Don't I deserve a little respect too?" Jackson asked, sitting up a little bit. "I'm a reasonable guy, but every man needs some lovin' once in a while."  
  
Hawkeye stood over him like a vulture circling a dead carcass. "What you need and deserve are two different things that don't concern any of us here. However, what we're willing to give you is a totally different story. I think Miss Bristow here might be willing to give you a swift kick in the ass. Believe me, I know from experience."  
  
"It's all right Hawkeye. I'm just ignoring it." She headed for the door.  
  
"It's not all-" He caught the door before it slammed in his face. "It is not all right. And I don't think that you should ignore it."  
  
"What some idiot soldier wants to fantasize about doesn't matter to me one bit. He can have his dreams if he wants to, so long as I don't hear about them."  
  
She stomped off, leaving Hawkeye alone. He thanked God that she had decided not to get violent on him. He was still recovering from the night before, even if he wouldn't admit it.  
  
*******************************  
  
BJ walked in the Swamp later that night to find Hawkeye holding a glass of gin and staring into space. He didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even take a drink from his glass. He just sat there on his bed. It was quite disturbing for BJ who was used to seeing a fun, sarcastic Hawkeye, not the mess in front of him.  
  
"You ok Hawk?" BJ asked.  
  
Hawkeye looked up, startled. "Hmm?"  
  
"I said, are you ok?" He went over to sit next to him on his cot. "You seem a little distant."  
  
"It's nothing. Just…I've got a lot on my mind."  
  
"Does her name start with an 'S' and end with an 'ydney'?"  
  
Hawkeye didn't speak for a few moments. Then he stood up and began to pace. "I can't get her out of my head. I've never met anyone like her."  
  
"None of us have, Hawk." He poured himself a drink as well. "It's the mystery of the future that's drawing you to her."  
  
"I don't know if that's it, Beej." He downed the glass of gin, swallowing hard. "There's more to it than that. She's beautiful, smart, dangerous…"  
  
"Dangerous?"  
  
"Long story. The point is, I've never felt this way before about anyone." He sat down on BJ's bed. "I might be nuts to fall for someone who isn't even technically alive yet, but there's just…I don't know. There's something there, Beej."  
  
"Hawk-"  
  
"Good evening, gentlemen." Charles burst into the room. "I hate to interrupt your little girl talk session but I've had a rough day and I would like to get some sleep."  
  
"That's fine with me Charles." BJ replied. He motioned for Hawkeye to get off of his bed. "Come on girl. Up. Up, girl."  
  
"Ha ha. Very funny. I can see that I'm not wanted here. So I will just leave."  
  
He wandered the compound for a while until he ran into Jack who was just leaving Post-Op.  
  
"Hey." He said.  
  
Jack gave him a little nod.  
  
"How's our patient doing?" Hawkeye saw that there was something in Jack's eyes. Was it fear? He couldn't tell.  
  
"He's still alive, if that's what you mean." He walked away from Hawkeye slowly.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Your daughter, Sydney, are she and Michael…?"  
  
"No. God no. In their line of work it's sort of discouraged." He looked Hawkeye over carefully. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"No reason. She just seems so worried about him. I wondered if maybe…but it doesn't really matter."  
  
"You're in love with her, aren't you?" Jack asked then. He didn't give the other man a chance to answer. "I highly suggest you keep away from her."  
  
"But Jack-"  
  
"In case you couldn't tell, that wasn't really a suggestion. It was an order. I order you to keep your hands off of my daughter."  
  
"Sorry. I answer to a higher authority than you, I'm afraid. And who said anything about touching her?" He was face to face with Jack now, a position that, if he hadn't been furious with him, he would have shied away from. "Lemme guess. You're trying to keep Sydney protected against the big bad bloodstained doctor? God forbid she have feelings for a M*A*S*H doctor, or anyone for that matter. Am I right?"  
  
"You just stay away from her." Jack grabbed a hold of his lapels. "Or else you'll be sorry." He had a dangerous glint in his eye. "I've killed for Sydney before. I can do it again."  
  
Hawkeye remembered something that Sydney had told him earlier. "You can't kill me."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Because of the repercussions it could have in the future."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You kill me, you prevent my children, my grand-children, my great- grandchildren and so on and so forth from being born. That changes the course of history and disrupts the normal flow of time."  
  
Jack thought about that for a moment. Slowly he let go of Hawkeye. "You're right. I can't kill you." He balled his hand into a fist. "That doesn't mean that I can't do other things to you." He caught Hawkeye in the stomach with his fist. Hawkeye bent over at the waist, clutching his stomach. "There'll be more where that came from if you don't stay away from Sydney."  
  
Then he went back to the Swamp. 


	11. Another Night In Hell

Chapter Eleven  
  
Korea, 1952  
  
Sydney had been walking around the camp thinking when the chopper landed in the middle of the compound. The PA came out loud and clear calling the doctors and nurses outside. Hawkeye, who hadn't gone back to the Swamp after the incident with Jack, was the first to arrive. He helped the two passengers and the pilot out of the helicopter. Only then did he realize how badly hurt they were.  
  
The first passenger was bleeding from the stomach. The other passenger was unconscious and had a large portion of his arm missing. The pilot, and Hawkeye marveled at how he could have flown a helicopter in his condition, had a hurt leg. BJ and Margaret helped Hawkeye load them onto stretchers and they were taken into Pre-Op immediately. Sydney looked at them in horror. Since she'd come here she'd seen batch after batch of wounded, but never this close up.  
  
Klinger came up behind her. "You okay, Sydney?"  
  
She jumped a mile, then turned to face him. "Yeah, I'm okay. I guess." She watched the men being carted away. "There's just so much of it."  
  
"I know. It takes a while to get used to it." Klinger put a hand on her shoulder. "Believe me you. I've been trying to get out of this place ever since I got here and it hasn't worked."  
  
"Is that why you wear the, uh…?" She motioned to his blue dress and her own black one.  
  
Klinger nodded. "There've been other schemes too, but none that Potter would believe enough to give me a Section Eight."  
  
"Ah." She nodded. "Don't they need you in there?"  
  
"Probably not. It's a pretty light night." The two of them started to walk away from the helicopter. "Major Winchester will take one of them, Hawkeye another, and BJ a third. They've got enough nurses and corpsmen to last them a lifetime. If they need me, believe me, you'll know."  
  
There were a few moments of silence then Sydney spoke again. "He doesn't like me, does he?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Major Winchester."  
  
Klinger chuckled. "Well, the Major doesn't like anyone. I doubt he likes his own mother."  
  
"I know what that's like," Sydney murmured.  
  
"What'd ya say?"  
  
She waved her hand. "Nothing."  
  
"What makes you think that Major Winchester doesn't like you?"  
  
"He wanted me to tell him about the future last night and when I told him I couldn't he left."  
  
"Ah, the old Major prying into things that should not be pried into. That's Charles for you."  
  
"What are these people really like?" She asked, motioning for him to come into her tent. It wasn't something she did on a regular basis, but she felt she could trust him. "I know what I see in them, but you know them so much better than I do."  
  
He sat in the chair next to her bed while she lay down on top of the cot, a pillow underneath her chin, her feet dangling off the side.  
  
"Hmm. What do I think of the people here?" He thought a moment. "Who first?"  
  
"Major Winchester."  
  
"He's a pompous windbag who doesn't know good music from the hair on his head, what little he has left, that is."  
  
She laughed. "All right, um, Margaret."  
  
"Hell of a nurse but a pain in the you-know-what."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"She's head nurse so naturally she's gonna be bossy, right?"  
  
"Right. Colonel Potter."  
  
"Top-notch guy. I just wish I could get that damn section eight. Don't you think it would be nice for me to wear some pants once in a while? When I get back to the states, I'm gonna either burn all those dresses or sell them." He stopped. "But other than that, the Colonel's a great man."  
  
"BJ."  
  
"He's obsessed with his wife and kid."  
  
"Well, wouldn't you be after being away from them so long?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess I would. He's a great surgeon and a heck of a guy."  
  
She paused before saying the next name. "What about Hawkeye?"  
  
"There are no words to describe him."  
  
"I'm sure you can think of a few."  
  
"Hmm…Loony. Insane. Crazy. Mad as a hatter." He smiled. "No, really. He fights for what he wants and he doesn't take no for an answer. Just don't make him mad when he's been in surgery for more than two hours."  
  
She held up her hands. "I won't. Scout's honor."  
  
"Once you've been here a while, you'll get used to all of this. You'll get to know them, unfortunately, as well as I do."  
  
"I don't want to get used to anything. This isn't where I belong."  
  
"I know that and I understand you wanting to get back home but word around camp is that you can't get back, so you might as well start adjusting." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off.  
  
"Look, all I can tell you is-"  
  
"KLINGER!" Someone was yelling somewhere close by. "KLINGER!"  
  
"I gotta go. I told you that you'd know when they needed me." He walked out of the tent, leaving Sydney to think about everything that he'd said.  
  
*********************************  
  
"Clamp!" Hawkeye ordered Nurse Kellye.  
  
He was busy trying to fix up the stomach of the first passenger that had come in on the chopper. Across the room BJ had finally pulled the bullet from the pilot's leg. Winchester, who had been stuck with the man with half an arm, wasn't having any luck. There was so much tissue damage that he didn't know where to start amputating the rest of it.  
  
"What happened to these guys?" Margaret wanted to know. She was helping Charles as best she could.  
  
"I don't know," Hawkeye replied, "but I'd like to find the bastards who did this and kill them."  
  
"Only after we've cut off their arms." BJ said.  
  
"And shot them through the stomachs." Charles agreed.  
  
"Oh, damn!"  
  
"What is it, Hawk?" BJ asked, suturing part of the leg.  
  
"The damage is worse than I thought. This kid's got bullets in every corner of his stomach. How do these guys survive like this?" He started working on getting out another bullet. "I mean, you think that the worst is over and then find that their body is a Pandora's Box of metal."  
  
"Very nice use of allusion, Pierce." Charles commented, trying to figure what to do next.  
  
"You know, if I didn't know better I'd put these kid's out of their misery, every single one of them." Hawkeye dumped the bullet in a nearby pan. "That one you've got there, Charles? I'd put him to sleep and he'd never have to know that he was an amputee."  
  
"That's terrible!" Margaret was shocked.  
  
"I agree with Margaret, Pierce," Potter said. He was assisting BJ at the moment.  
  
"No, you know what's terrible? This is terrible! We work day in and day out to keep these kids alive and all that does is cause more problems for them. They come over here with pride in their heart and a uniform on their back thinking that they're going to make a difference in the world. Then they get shot and they're sent here and we send them home with shame in their heart and a bloodied uniform on whatever's left of them." He pulled another bullet out. "It isn't fair that we try our damndest to keep these kids out on the front just so that they can be sent back two weeks later only to lose an arm or a leg…or their life."  
  
"Pierce, do you need to take a break?" Potter asked. "You seem a little tuckered out."  
  
Hawkeye shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I just…" He pulled out the last bullet and told Kellye to retract. "I just wish that I didn't have to be patching up somebody's stomach at 10:45 at night."  
  
"11:00." Klinger corrected, walking into the OR.  
  
"Where the blazes have you been?" Potter demanded.  
  
The corpsmen who had gone to find him said, "I found him in Miss Bristow's tent."  
  
Hawkeye's bullets dropped to the floor. "What?"  
  
"What were you doing there?" Margaret wanted to know.  
  
"Sydney was a little upset about the men that came in tonight. She isn't used to seeing stuff like that."  
  
"I doubt that," Pierce said quietly.  
  
"I just sat with her a little till she had calmed down. I figured that you could handle this by yourself." Klinger held up his hands. "Apparently I was wrong."  
  
"Apparently." Charles said.  
  
BJ was fixing up the leg, attempting to reconstruct. "Pull up a body Klinger. Join the pity party."  
  
"Yes," Charles agreed. "You just missed Pierce's touching speech. It brought a tear to my eye."  
  
"I'll bring a foot to your mouth if you don't shut up, Charles." BJ threatened.  
  
"Once again, Hunnicut, you have struck a chord of fear in my heart. I shall do as you-"  
  
Suddenly Radar burst in. "Colonel Potter, sir!"  
  
"What is it, Radar?" He asked, looking up from the leg he was helping BJ with.  
  
"It's Colonel Riley, sir. He's in the office."  
  
"Right." He nodded to BJ. "Can you finish this by yourself, son?"  
  
"If not, I can sure as hell try."  
  
"Good. I'll be right there Radar."  
  
"Right sir." And then he had run off again.  
  
*************************************  
  
"Richard!" Colonel Potter greeted his old pal Colonel Richard Riley of the 4075th M*A*S*H. It had been years since they'd seen each other but had talked over the phone quite a few times since they found out that they were both in Korea. They had known each other for about fifteen years, ever since they had been on the same surgical staff back in the states.  
  
"Potter, you old fool! It's good to see ya again!" Riley and Potter gave each other a big hug. It had been too long. "So, what did you need me to come here for?"  
  
"Well, last week I got a call from a friend of ours. Do you remember General Kite?"  
  
"Kite? Kite?" He thought for a moment. "You don't mean Wally Kite, do you?" His smile had faded.  
  
"The same." Potter replied. He wasn't smiling either. "Seems the old bag needs to see the both of us in Seoul PDQ."  
  
"How quick is pretty darn quick?"  
  
"Yesterday, if possible."  
  
Riley slid into the nearest chair. "That is quick." He rubbed his eyes. "What does he want?"  
  
"Wouldn't say. If you ask me, he seemed pretty keen on keeping away from the subject. He even asked me about my wife…Martha."  
  
"But isn't your wife's name-"  
  
"Mildred." Potter nodded. "He was nervous about the call. That always means that something's wrong."  
  
"Why didn't he call me?"  
  
"Not sure. Guess he figured I could handle it."  
  
"You don't think we're being sent state-side, do ya?"  
  
"God I hope not. Not that I wouldn't love being home with Mildred again, but I can't leave this unit. It's become my home away from home. I'd miss these ladies and gents too much."  
  
"When do you think we should head out?"  
  
"Tomorrow. I'm gonna call a meeting early tomorrow morning and explain the situation, in as few words as possible, to my doctors. They'll know what to do. I can leave Hawkeye in charge. I trust he'll do an okay job. He usually does."  
  
"All right. Where do I stay for the night then?"  
  
"Well, I've got someone in the VIP tent now, but I could ask her to buddy up with my head nurse for the night. I don't think she'll mind."  
  
"That's just fine with me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find my way to the latrine."  
  
"If you get lost, holler for Radar."  
  
"That won't be necessary. I can just follow the smell." He went in search of the bathrooms.  
  
"Hell of guy, that Riley. I just hope to God that whatever that blasted Kite has to say, that it's good news." He was about to go looking for Radar when he appeared at his side.  
  
"You wanted to see me sir?" Radar asked.  
  
"Go tell those gloomy Gusses in the OR that I want a meeting tomorrow at O nine hundred."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Thank you Radar."  
  
"And good luck on your trip, sir."  
  
"Thank y-" He was sometimes surprised at the things that Radar knew, but after this long he knew that he should be used to it. "One of these days I'm gonna catch that kid off-guard." Then he stopped. "If I have anymore days at this M*A*S*H, that is." 


	12. Love, Korean Style

Chapter Twelve  
  
Korea, 1952  
  
Sydney moved into Margaret's tent that night about a half an hour before Margaret got done in the OR. It was a lot more comfortable in some ways than her tent was, but in other ways it seemed downright stiff. She guessed it was because of what Klinger had told her about Margaret being bossy. She scolded herself for listening to the opinions of others. Margaret had usually been nice to her these past few days and she knew that Klinger and his Section Eight scams probably just got on her nerves.  
  
"Sydney, I didn't realize you were in here." Margaret said suddenly. "Colonel Riley wasted no time moving in did he?"  
  
"I was out of there before I could say 'Yes sir'." She shrugged. "You don't mind, do you?"  
  
"What, you staying here? Of course not. I've been meaning to get to know you a little better ever since you got here and since I'm too anxious to sleep I figure now might be a good time."  
  
Sydney nodded. She was too pissed to sleep. That Colonel had some nerve moving into her tent. Then she stopped herself. It wasn't really her tent. She was just there temporarily until she and Jack and Vaughn found a way back to their own time. She decided that now would be a good time to get to know the "bossy head nurse".  
  
"You said you were anxious. Why?" She asked.  
  
"Long night in the OR. We lost two men out of the three that flew in on the helicopter." Despite her years at the 4077th, despite the fact that she had seen death before, had lost lives herself, she still felt a bit of despair every time one of those brave men died. "Only the pilot survived." She wiped away a tear.  
  
"That's terrible." Sydney replied. She saw then that what Klinger had said wasn't quite true. You never fully get used to a place like this.  
  
"The one man, the one that Charles was working on, he had lost part of his arm, no one knows why exactly. Charles fought and fought to save that boy. He really tried. But he couldn't hold on. He had lost too much blood. It was no use."  
  
"And the other man?"  
  
"He was the one Pierce worked on. We thought he had only been shot once. It turns out that his insides were riddled with bullets. There was too much internal damage to save him." She couldn't help it anymore. The whole experience washed over her like a wave of desolation and she broke down crying.  
  
Sydney wasn't sure what to do at first, but after a minute or so went over to Margaret and comforted her. They stood there like that for a while. Then there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Sydney? Are you in there?" It was Jack.  
  
Margaret's eyes perked up and she pulled away from Sydney, quickly drying her tears. She rushed to the door as if Jack were Santa Claus and she a little girl waiting for presents on Christmas Eve.  
  
"Hello, Jack." She smiled. "Won't you come in?"  
  
"Thank you." He nodded to her. "Sydney, why did they move you?"  
  
"A friend of the Colonel's came and needed a place to stay." She replied, noting the look of excitement on Margaret's face. Maybe what Hawkeye and BJ thought was true: maybe she did have a thing for her father. "The Colonel Potter has called a meeting for tomorrow morning. We'll find out what's going on then."  
  
"Oh. Right." He looked around the tent. "Well, I must say, Major, you keep a cleaner house than the people I'm staying with."  
  
She laughed, a little too loud if Sydney did say so herself. "Why, thank you Jack." She gushed. "And please, call me Margaret."  
  
"All right…Margaret."  
  
The two looked at each other for a moment and Sydney thought she was going to be sick. It was weird to see her father flirting with someone. She began to think that Hawkeye and BJ were starting to be a bad influence on him. First the drinking episode and now this? What next?  
  
"Dad." Sydney said, trying to get her father's attention. "Dad?"  
  
"What sweetie?" He asked, not tearing his eyes away from Margaret.  
  
"Never mind." She skulked out of the tent and ran straight into Hawkeye.  
  
"Well," he said, "fancy meeting you here. You come here often?"  
  
She started to walk away. "If you're here for Margaret, I wouldn't go in there. She and my father are acting like they're in a soap-" She caught herself before she said "soap opera".  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
He ran to catch up with her. "Actually, I'm here to see you."  
  
"You're walking around the compound at midnight just to see me? I'm flattered Hawkeye."  
  
"It's about your father."  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. Except for the fact that he threatened to kill me!"  
  
Syd stopped dead in her tracks. "He did what?"  
  
Hawkeye accidentally bumped into her. "Yeah, you heard me. He told me that if I didn't stay away from you he'd kill me, said that he'd killed for you before and wasn't afraid to do it again."  
  
"That sounds like him all right."  
  
"Then I gave him that cute line you gave me this morning about unborn kids and he said that he realized that he couldn't kill me." He pointed a finger at Margaret's tent. "And then that wacko punched me in the gut!"  
  
"My father is not a wacko. He's just protective."  
  
"So is a life preserver but it doesn't injure you, does it?"  
  
Sydney looked back at the tent where Margaret and her father were getting "twitterpated", to coin a phrase. "I don't understand what his problem is. He should realize that there's no chance between us." But as she spoke those words, she knew that they were the biggest lie she had ever told in her life.  
  
"That's what I was going to tell him. But it's kind of hard to talk when you have no oxygen left in your lungs. Boy, I'll tell you something. You Bristows are more violent than any other people I've ever met in my life."  
  
"Flatterer." She teased, pushing him playfully. It was an action that thoroughly surprised her. She, Sydney Bristow, was flirting.  
  
"Please promise me that this is just a unique trait and that not everyone knows how to do stuff like you guys do in the future."  
  
"It's all part of the spy trade, Hawk. That's all I'll say."  
  
He nodded. Sydney looked behind him again to where Jack was now standing in front of Margaret's tent. Hawkeye turned.  
  
"Looks like one of the lovebirds is flying the coup."  
  
"I should get going."  
  
"Yeah, me too. I'd like to wake up with all my body parts in their rightful places."  
  
"Goodnight Hawkeye." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you at the meeting."  
  
Hawkeye looked down into her eyes for a moment. "Good night Syd." He wanted so badly to kiss her, but didn't want to repeat the Officer's Club incident. "Sleep tight."  
  
He headed for the Swamp. Sydney watched him go. Margaret had said goodnight to Jack and noticed Sydney was still standing outside. She walked up behind her and said, "You have feelings for him, don't you?"  
  
Sydney shrugged. "I don't know Margaret. I just don't know.  
  
***************************  
  
Potter's office was filled to capacity the next morning at nine o'clock. Sitting in the chairs in front of Potter's desk were Charles and Jack. Margaret, Sydney and Father Mulcahy were standing behind them, while Hawkeye and BJ were sitting on the bench by the window. Radar and Klinger stood in the corner. Behind Potter's desk were Colonel Potter and Colonel Riley.  
  
"Mornin'." Potter said without enthusiasm. "I guess you're wondering why you're all here." He sat down in his chair. "I've been summoned to Seoul and will be gone for who knows how long."  
  
"Why? What's wrong?" Margaret asked.  
  
"Not quite sure. They didn't say in so many words. Colonel Riley here is going along for the ride as well. I'm leaving Hawkeye in charge." He saw that Charles was about to complain. "Can it, Winchester. He's chief-of- staff and I'm the Colonel and you aren't either so I'd suggest that you shut your trap."  
  
"Yes Colonel." Charles seethed with rage, but said nothing more.  
  
"Also, while I'm gone I want Klinger to help our two guests figure a way out of their predicament, Margaret to keep an eye on the third visitor, and Radar to make sure that the camp stays stocked with supplies. The rest of you can do what you normally do, I guess. At least, within reason."  
  
"Colonel," Hawkeye said, standing up, "not to be nosy or anything, but what's going on here?"  
  
"None of your damn business, Pierce, that's what!" He replied. "Now, I want all of you to get back to work and don't worry what's going on!"  
  
After they had left Riley turned to Potter and nodded. "It's time."  
  
"I know, Richard. I know. Let's just hope that this isn't the last time I get to order these boys around." 


	13. Sydney and Sidney

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

Korea, 1952

Sydney went to visit Vaughn again later that day. She sat next to him in a chair, willing him to wake up so that the three of them could get out of Korea as soon as possible. She held his hand tightly hoping that he could feel it but knowing that he was probably so deeply unconscious that a bus could've hit him and he wouldn't have felt it. The tears that hadn't wanted to come the last time she'd visited him finally started to fall down her face. She wiped them away when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bristow." It was Sidney.

"Good afternoon to you, too, Dr. Freeman." She replied, turning to face him.

"I see your friend hasn't woken up yet." He pulled up a chair next to her. "That must be very hard for you."

"It is." Sydney nodded, letting go of Vaughn's hand. "Is there something that I can do for you?"

"No, not really. I just came here to see how one of the soldiers was doing. He came in with massive psychological damage. Apparently he'd seen his buddy shot to death by a Korean soldier."

"That would be traumatizing to anyone." Sydney said.

"Yes. Very. Anyway, I saw you sitting here and figured that maybe you'd need to talk to someone."

Sydney looked from to Sidney and back again. "That's very thoughtful of you, but I think I'm all right."

"Are you sure? Klinger told me about what happened the night before. He said that you've had difficulty adjusting to all the death and injury around you."

"And that makes me weird?" Sydney asked in disbelief.

Sidney chuckled a little. "No, I guess you're right." He looked over at Hawkeye who was checking up on a man who had lost an eye in battle. There was a patch over it, but Sidney still knew that there was nothing underneath it. "Maybe it's us that need the shrinks, me included. We've been here for so long that sometimes death no longer seems like that big of a deal."

"But sometimes it does," Sydney said, remembering Margaret's little episode in her tent the night before.

"Yes. There are some exceptions." Sidney agreed. He looked at the young woman carefully for a moment before saying, "You know, you never answered my question."

"Which question was that?"

"The first day I asked you what your occupation was and you avoided the question, if I remember correctly, with a very impressive theatrical performance."

"I had good reason for that."

Sidney smiled. "You're with the government, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"That would explain all the secrecy…and why you tried to pretend you were seeing three of me."

"I thought it was only two." Sydney said, recalling her eccentric performance just five days earlier.

That's when it hit her. She, her father, and Vaughn had been there for five days. If and when they managed to get back to their own time, Sydney's cover would be blown, she was sure of it. Her father would be killed as would she and Vaughn would have to find another agent to help the CIA bring SD-6 down. She knew that her imagination was getting the best of her, but that didn't matter. All that she cared about right now was Vaughn…and Hawkeye.

"Sydney?" The psychiatrist asked.

"Hmm?" She was still off in another dimension.

"Are you sure that there isn't something that you need to discuss with someone? No problems you're having right now?"

"Oh, I've got problems, just not ones that can be discussed. Besides, you'd never believe me anyway."

"Try me." Sidney replied, smirking. He'd heard it all in his days as a psychiatrist. He knew that no matter what Sydney had to say it probably wasn't as bad as she thought it was.

Sydney opened her mouth to say something when she heard the sound of a truck outside.

"Ambulance in the compound." The voice over the PA announced. "All personnel report to triage immediately. My guess is this probably isn't a visit from Santa Claus."

Doctors and nurses rushed out of Post-Op. Sydney looked at their retreating figures sympathetically.

"I've seen a lot of death and destruction in my line of work and yet I still don't envy these men and women anything." Sydney said, mainly to herself but also to Sidney as well.

The psychiatrist nodded. "That's why I'm just the shrink."

The next few days passed quickly. There were a few ambulances here and there, a chopper or two, but other than that there wasn't much to do medically. A wounded soldier informed Hawkeye that there had been a lull in the fighting lately which was good news for the MASH doctors. It meant that there was less to worry about.

There was no word from Colonel Potter during this time. People were starting to get worried, especially Radar who kept trying to get a hold of General Kite with no luck. He stopped eating and sleeping after a while and just stayed at the desk all day. Everyone knew that something big was up, even Sydney and Jack who had spent most of this time sitting with Vaughn and discussing possible ways to get back.

The CIA agents had been in Korea now for a week and a half. By that time everyone at the 4077th knew who they were and where they had come from. It was getting more and more dangerous to stay but they really had no choice. Margaret had informed them that there was a chance Vaughn would never wake up. Jack had suggested just leaving him and the clock there so that if he ever did come out of the coma he could find his way back. Sydney voted strongly against that option and opted to stay with him while Jack went back. This plan had seemed plausible but when Jack reset the clock to noon nothing happened.

"Dad, what the hell are we going to do?" Sydney asked that night at dinner, crying into what was supposed to be a slice of ham.

"I don't know sweetie. I just don't know."

Hawkeye and BJ were sitting across from them playing a game of poker.

"Is there any way of contacting someone from 2002?" BJ asked, trading two cards.

"Not that I know of." Jack replied.

"Besides," Hawkeye countered, "how would they know that that person had been reached. They can't exactly send a message back to us."

"This is a mess." Margaret moaned, letting her fork clatter to her tray. "There's got to be someway to clean it up."

"Well, we could always-" Hawkeye started, but was interrupted by the PA system.

"Attention all personnel! Jeep in the compound! Our fearless leader has returned!"

A cheer erupted from the MASH staff as they rushed out of the Mess Tent to meet Colonel Potter. Radar was already there helping him out of the jeep, as was Klinger who was pulling Potter's luggage out of the back. Hawkeye, BJ, and Margaret crowded around him like children around a parent who has gone off on a long business trip.

"It's good to have you back, sir." Margaret said, giving him a warm hug.

"Did you bring us anything?" Hawkeye asked, as he and BJ searched the bags that were sitting on the ground behind the vehicle.

Rizzo who had come to take the jeep back to the garage was the first to notice that something was wrong. "What's eatin' you, sir?" He asked, seeing the Colonel's dejected look.

Potter stood up tall and walked to the middle of the throng of people that had gathered in the compound. Radar, who had disappeared seconds before, now handed the Colonel a bullhorn. "Everyone, I have an announcement to make!" Where once there had been the murmur of many voices there was now complete silence. "As you know I was gone for the past few days on business in Seoul. I knew when General Kite called me to say that he needed to see me that the situation wasn't good. I have come back in order to pack my bags."

The crowd went wild with indignation. It took a few minutes for Potter to get them to calm down again.

"It is with great sorrow that I inform you now that a chopper will be here in a week to take me to an airport in Seoul where I will be sent home at once. It appears that my services will no longer be needed here." Again the staff started to shout but Potter held up a hand for silence. "General Kite believes that my good friend Colonel Richard Riley is better suited to be your CO than I."

"This is ridiculous!" Hawkeye muttered, grabbing the bullhorn away from Potter. "Are we gonna take this?" He asked the men and women of the 4077th. A resounding "no" was his answer. "That's right!" The chief-of-staff replied, putting an arm around Potter. "This man is the best damn CO around and we won't let them take him away from us. If they send him home, they send us all home."

This seemed to make a lasting impression of the wrong sort as everyone began to chant, "Send us home, send us home!"

"Hawkeye," Potter began. " I think you'd better quit while you're ahead."

Margaret, who had tears in her eyes, asked, "Isn't there a way that we can stop this?"

"I'm afraid not, Major Houlihan. Kite's not the kind of man to change his mind when he's got it set on something."

Mulcahy, who had been standing with Jack and Sydney the whole time suddenly said, "It all makes sense now."

"What does, Father?" Jack asked, turning to the man.

"This is the reason why you're here." He replied. "You've been sent here to help us."

Sydney gave him a puzzled look. "What are you talking about? We were sent here because of my stupidity."

Mulcahy shook his head. "I think that you'll find, my child, that everything happens for a reason." And with that he walked back to his tent.

"Dad, do you really believe what he said?" Sydney asked, looking back at the forlorn mob that was clustered around the Colonel.

Jack started to shake his head then decided against it. "You know what? I actually do, Syd. I actually do."

Just then a corpsmen burst out of the O.R. "He's awake!" He yelled. "He finally woke up!"


End file.
